


Haunted By The Ghost Of The Girl I Used To Be

by Andian



Category: Russian Doll (TV 2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Pre-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, The OMC Is So Unimportant Neither Nadia Nor The Author Care About His Name, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 05:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20204317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: The Big Johnson shirt was peeking out from underneath her jacket. She wasn’t sure why she had stolen it from the guy. She had owned a Big Johnson shirt herself when she was ten. Her mother had driven to the mall with her one day when she had worn it. They had gotten ice cream and it had been a good day. Nadia remembered because there hadn't been many good days.





	Haunted By The Ghost Of The Girl I Used To Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mitsein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsein/gifts).

When she was ten her mother had driven to the mall with her. Nadia had been wearing a Big Johnson shirt, too large on her small frame, and she had been met with the disapproving looks of several other customers. One of them had been stupid enough to voice her disapproval out loud and her mother had screamed at her and dragged Nadia away.

Her mother had calmed down though and they had gotten ice cream and had stared down at the other customers from the top floor, scuttling below them like ants.  
It had been a good day. Nadia remembered it because there hadn’t been many of them, especially not later. She mostly remembered it now though because the guy she had fucked had a similar Big Johnson shirt to the one she had been wearing that day. Probably the same size too. 

She wrinkled her nose and reached for the half-empty can of beer buried under the shirt, taking a big sip.

“Gross,” the guy mumbled behind her from her bed. “It’s stale,” Nadia said. She still kept drinking it and then reached for her pants and bra. 

“You need to go,” she then said, turning back to the guy. He had a name, she was sure about that, but she’d be damned if she remembered what it was.

The guy raised an eyebrow.

“No breakfast?”

“There is some Mad Dog left in the fridge. I have a meeting. Be gone when I’m back and don’t steal my stuff!” 

With that she quickly reached for the guy’s Big Johnson shirt, pulling it over her head, and left her flat. The afternoon sun was shining bright and she could already feel a headache coming on as she made her way towards the subway. Somebody was handing out flyers at the entrance, trusting one into her hand.

With a frown she stared at it. Sin and hell and all that other bullshit. 

“Repent before you will burn,” the man who had handed her the flyer said with a smile.

“No matter how bad hell is, it can’t be worse than this,” Nadia said, making a vague gesture. Maybe to the dirty subway entrance and the smell of piss. Maybe to  
herself. It was more a general kind of thing, she figured. Turning away from the man she crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it over her shoulder.

The meeting at work went off without a hitch though her headache seemed to only intensify after she had to listen to a five minute speech of the project manager congratulating everybody on their good work. She left immediately after the meeting was done, ignoring the invite for after-work drinks with the rest of her team members.

She was itching for a smoke. And for a drink.

“Hey Lizzie, let’s get wasted” she typed one-handed, holding a cigarette in her other hand. She stopped in front of a shop as she waited for Lizzie to answer, catching sight of herself in the shop window for the first time since she had woken up a few hours ago.

The Big Johnson shirt was peeking out from underneath her jacket. She wasn’t sure why she had stolen it from the guy. Certainly not to remember him. He hadn’t been that good.

She frowned, stroking over the shirt almost absent-mindedly. She hadn’t understood the innuendo on the shirt back then. She did now. Had she tried to ask her mother about it? Maybe. Maybe not. She doubted her mother would have given her an actual answer anyway.

The buzz of her phone interrupted her thoughts.

Lizzie had just sent the location of some club as an answer, thankfully only a few streets away from where Nadia currently was. Nadia smiled and started walking.

Two hours and nine drinks passed. Or maybe more than nine. Who was counting? Not Nadia. Maxine had shown up somewhere between drink four and six as had  
Lizzie’s girlfriend. The two of them had gone off to make out in some corner, leaving Nadia and Maxine to try some of the pills Maxine had brought.

“Black Ice,” she said with a wide grin. “You’re gonna love it.”

And Nadia did. Maybe. Maybe not. The world was spinning and maybe she shouldn’t have mixed the pills with that much beer and especially not on an empty stomach but fuck it, she thought. Fuck it. 

You only live once after all, better make sure it was short.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Maxine suddenly said, her voice dreamy and her eyes far away. “We should have a party. You should have a party.”

“This isn’t enough of a party for you?” 

“No, no, a birthday party. For you. Cause it’s your birthday. You know, turning 36 and stuff.”

The pills were either wearing off really quickly or she should have gotten way more drunk before taking them because Nadia suddenly felt very somber.

“Excuse me, need to pee,” she said, abruptly standing up. Almost in a trance she made her way through the club towards the bathroom. 

She locked herself inside of it, staring at the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her pants had gotten a few beer stains from an overexcited Maxine and her jacket was somewhere in the club though she couldn’t really say where exactly.

The Big Johnson shirt was still looking fine though. They had gotten ice cream that day in the mall and she had dribbled some of it on the shirt and her mom had just laughed. She had loved it when her mom had laughed.

And now it was her birthday. 

Her mom hadn’t laughed the day after they had gone to the mall. She had started driving around with her, taking polaroid pictures of every stop sign she could find. There had been no food the entire day. No ice cream. No laughter.

And when Nadia had asked if they could go home yet, her mother had just stared at her. And then told her to get rid of that ugly shirt she was wearing, she couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand looking at it, why was Nadia even wearing it?!

It had been like the shirt Nadia had stolen from the guy this morning. It hadn’t been Nadia’s favorite shirt but she had still worn it.

And now she was turning 36. She hadn’t thought she’d ever make it to be 36.

She suddenly wanted to tear off the Big Johnson shirt. Rip it up, burn it, because it was ugly, wasn’t it, and why was she even wearing it?

She stared into the mirror and it was the pills, it must have been the pills, because for a moment Nadia thought that she saw a little girl looking back. Wearing a Big Johnson shirt that was too large on her small frame with a serious expression.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the little girl was gone. 

“Fuck the beer,” Nadia mumbled to herself, turning away from the mirror. “I need some whiskey.”

Enough at least, she thought as she left the bathroom, to make herself forget she what kind of shirt she was wearing.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "The Beer" by Kimya Dawson.


End file.
